


Rick Grimes vs. The Fourth Wall

by 1lostone



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 1lostone, Humor, I'm a tag, M/M, No Angst, Oh hey look, Porn with Feeeeeeeeeelings, Promise, Seriously I don't know what the hell I was thinking, The Archive of Our Own, The Princess Bride References, This is crack, Trust me.... :D, also happy birthday Tweedo!, it's for a reason, this is me trying to be funny, wow that summary is very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7184849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very silly thing for my friend, TWDObsessive! </p><p>After a TEMPORARY but significant event changes his plans for the day, Rick meets someone that he's... not sure what to do with. And then he meets someone else. Well, technically <i> two </i> someones, but that's gonna make his head explode if he thinks about it too much.  Also, there's a mystery. Sort of.</p><p>EDIT 3/2/17 <b>PixieReedus made VERY NSFW MANIPS FOR THIS STORY <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/10043201"> HERE </a>!!!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TWDObsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/gifts).



> Welp the tags are deliberately vague. All I can say is that there is nothing in here that is triggering, aside from a truly appalling use of italics and bold. Trust me. It's much more fun if you er... roll with it. :D Oh There are very brief mentions of the first er... 10 editions I think of the comic book. Love to FoxyK for the beta, and Jen for the everything <3
> 
> Happy Birthday to youuuu. Happy Birthday to youuuu... I know that it's early, but if I don't post now I never will! <3

Later, Rick would have to blame it all on Maggie. Usually when she had an idea, she was balls-to-the-wall, full tilt, crazy determined until she got what she wanted. This time though, she’d just sort of casually mentioned it.  Innocuous. Sweet as a damn daisy.

“You know what would be great? Solar power panels.”

Rick had shrugged and nodded, agreeing that that would be a damn good thing.  It wasn’t until Eugene had come up to him with schematics and Daryl and Abraham with a plan to harvest panels used already in neighboring subdivisions that Rick _really_ realized just how determined Maggie was.

Still, it wouldn’t be too much of a bad thing to get rocks in everyone’s scotch again, so he was willing enough to go with it. Even if he was the one elected to be on the roof.  

Rick fucking _hated_ heights.

* * *

 

Later... much, much later... Rick would have to acknowledge that the world was a fucked-up place.  Sure, the dead rising up and deciding to take a stroll around was weird.  Well, okay... quite a bit more than weird. Constant-what-the- _fuck_ -was-that weird. Hey-we-seem-to-be-sharing-the-same-psychosis weird. When they’d had their first movie night after everything had calmed down no one commented on Daryl’s shocked gasp when Sasha had brought out the collector's edition of both _Night of the Living Dead_ or _28 Days Later_ , but when Daryl had rather aggressively stuck in the DVD for _The_ _Princess Bride_ and glared at each one of them, no one had thought it prudent to comment.  

The point was, weird shit seemed to happen all the time. Rick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Some of the things that happened to them were completely ridiculous. The whole group of them had a running joke that as soon as someone started talking about their past lives they were the next to die.  It was a dark joke, and morbid as hell, but it wasn’t _wrong._

Sometimes Rick felt like an extra in a two-bit B movie, what with all the sudden changes in their lives in the past three years.

It was hard to be surprised when you found corpses trying to eat you on the daily, but Rick still managed.

Still, the day he died was just _weird._

* * *

 

“ _MOOTHHHER_ **_FUCKER_** _!”_

As last words go, they weren’t the best. No one would listen and nod sadly, then reflect on the futile yet poignantly worthwhile life Rick had lead. His words would probably not be immortalized in a carved marble statue of him standing heroically, looking off into the distance.   Books would not be written to his verbal brilliance.

It had just happened so fast. He hadn’t had _time_ to do anything. There was a quick nanosecond of panicked thought, then the feel of Maggie’s goddamn solar panels sliding under his feet, then the really-not-so-funny-when-it-actually-happens-because- _Rick-Grimes-is-not-a-fucking-cartoon-character_ windmilling of his arms,  Rick succumbing to the fate and falling backwards off the roof, Daryl’s terrified attempt to reach for him to stop his fall and jesus _fuck_ the look on his face, then a horrible and very final sounding **_crack_** as Rick landed on the ground, breaking his neck instantly.

That wasn’t even the weird part.

The weird part was that as soon as Rick woke up after his slightly klutzy and wholly embarrassing untimely demise, there was a strange woman sitting near him.  She was hunched over what looked to be a laptop, and typing furiously.

Rick opened his other eye and blinked. He was surrounded by a weird, purplely-sparkly-mist that was strangely opaque in places and well, _misty_ in others.

Rick sat up, trying to ignore the feeling of his head wiggling on his neck. It was extremely hard to ignore, to tell the truth. It felt bizarre as hell. He felt like a cast extra on _Beetlejuice._

“Um. Hi?”

The clack of keys stopped. The woman looked up, squinting a little as though waiting for her eyes to adjust from a bright computer screen. Her smile, truth be told, was a little creepy. She looked like the cat who had the cream, a canary, and a lifetime supply of fresh tunafish. Rick had a nervous urge to cover himself.

“Hi there, Mr. Grimes. Well, Rick. Do you mind if I call you Rick?”

Rick did not mind. Rick did not give a fuck. Rick _did_ want to know who had slipped him the heavy hallucinogenic shit, but he was willing enough to roll with it. His head flipped off to the right and he took a second to put it back in its rightful place, ignoring the vertigo that came with sudden onset head flippage.

“Sure.” He held out his hand. The woman made a squeaky sound, wiped her hand on her jeans, then reached out over her laptop to shake his hand. “And you are...?”

“Oh. I’m Lost. Well, 1lostone, but most people just call me Lost.”

Uh _huh._

Rick tried to cock his head, but his neck did that creepy wiggle thing again, like a mold of jello during an earthquake.

“Oh! Sorry about that.”  Lost bent over her laptop again and Rick heard the furious clacking of her fingers against the keys. Rick’s eyes widened when he felt the bones in his neck align, snapping into place as they knit together. He straightened his spine and tentatively stretched his neck. It popped but didn’t move, so he was both fairly impressed and willing to count it as a win. Still feeling like it was too good to be true, he bent down and touched his toes, before remembering that he hadn’t been able to actually _touch_ his toes without cheating and bending his knees since the late nineties. Fuckin’ _ow_.

“How--?”

Lost beamed. “Hey I can show you! Here.” She gestured to Rick with one finger in the universial ‘come here’ motion. “Basically, I uh. Well... I control you. You’re,” her face turned an alarming shade of red. “Mine. Ish.”

Rick gasped with a sound that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in a Victorian romance. “I am not! I don’t even know you.” Momentum carried him over near Lost, who tilted her laptop so that he could see.  Rick squinted down at the screen.  It looked like some sort of word processing program.  He could very clearly see the words she had typed there:

_Rick’s eyes widened when he felt the bones in his neck align, snapping into place as they knit together. He straightened his spine and tentatively stretched his neck. It popped but didn’t move, so he was both fairly impressed and willing to count it as a win._

“Bullshit.”

Lost’s eyes narrowed. She calmly brushed her short hair behind her ear, then slowly smirked.

If there was a way to type in ‘asshole-ese’, Lost would have done so. Each click of her finger was deliberate, and Rick watched the words appear on the screen with something very like horror.

Rick found himself standing as tall as his five feet, ten inches would allow. From out of the mist came the telltale sounds of the most horrifying song ever to exist. The beginning notes caused Rick to cringe in pure, unadulterated fear. Against his will, Rick found himself dancing...

...the Macarena.

It was _awful._ He danced and danced, singing the words under his breath with a fierceness that scared him down to his bone marrow.  If this woman... this _Lost_ could do such acts of pure depravity and evil....

“Okay! Okay! I’m willing to concede some sort of ... temporary ownership. At least of my will.” He danced with great woe and despair, hoping that if he agreed with the crazy person she’d allow him to stop. Besides his nose itched.

Lost shrugged.  “If it makes you feel better, you’re not just mine. I mean, right now, for this story you are, but there are lot of people who own your ass. The Archive of Our Own has thousands of authors who have you doing all _sorts_ of fun things.”

That was actually quite terrifying.

Lost typed something, and Rick found that he was finally able to stop dancing. He itched his nose furiously. The music disappeared and he allowed himself a small breath of relief. He tried to take a few steps away from her and her laptop of doom, but he didn’t think that he was all that unobtrusive if the way she eyed him was any indication.

Lost clapped her hands. “Okay so, to be honest, you’re not even my favorite, no offence.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. The weird mist and the quasi-insane person with the laptop would seem to differ, but what did he know. “None taken.”

“Oh good! My favorite Rick is comic-Rick. He’s kind of more of a badass, and well, much scarier than you are. Darker.”  

Rick heard the familiar click clack of keys and tried not to show abject fear. It was slowly beginning to dawn on him that she had the ability to do pretty much anything she wanted here... wherever _here_ was.  The mist swirled and coalesced into a mirror. In it, Rick could see that he had grown a beard back. More troubling was that he seemed to be drawn completely in black and white, and was missing his hand.  Everything reflected in the mirror looked like the panels of a very gruesome comic book. He jerked his gaze down out of the mirror to his physical self, almost going weak in his knees when he saw that it was normal-him, with both hands present and accounted for, thankfully still three dimensional. He rubbed his jaw. It probably _was_ time to shave though.

“But... in that version, as cool as it is, there’s no Daryl.”

Rick gasped, shocked at an idea of a world without Daryl Dixon. That was... that was.... Okay Rick didn’t _know_ what that was, but it made his heart lurch into his throat.

Lost nodded vigorously. “I _know_ , right? Some bullshit right there! Daryl makes the fucking whole thing work! That squinty stare! The brooding angst!”

“Dem shoulders.”  Rick didn’t sigh, but it was a close thing.

Lost froze and choked for a second, covering her mouth with both hands and giggling madly.  Middle-aged women probably shouldn’t giggle quite like that, but Rick was pretty sure that this was her show, so he wasn’t going to be a dick about it.  The smile lines on her face made him feel slightly more at ease.  Surely crazed serial killers didn’t look quite like _that._ She looked like a mild-mannered high school teacher for Christ’s sake, not like someone on the FBI’s Most Wanted.

“Well.” She managed to get her laughter under control. “I bet you’re wondering what you’re doing here!”

“Well- I died, right? Is this Hel- uh. Heaven?”

Lost scrunched up her nose. “Wee-eeell, you’re not quite dead. If I had to put it into words, I’d say that It just so happens that you’re only MOSTLY dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead... well... with all dead there's usually only one thing you can do.”

“Look for loose change?”

Lost’s grin was surprisingly bright. Rick fought the urge to high five her. He did love the _Princess Bride_ probably almost as much as the rest of his crazy family did. They often quoted bits and pieces to each other, usually at wholly inappropriate times. Thinking of the movie made Rick think of Daryl, and the slightly amused feeling leaked out of him like air out of a sad-looking balloon.

“Oh, hey. What was that? Don’t do that.” Lost looked concerned. She frowned down at her laptop, and Rick could see her reading over what had just happened.  “Oh. I see. Well, that isn’t really a surprise, I guess.”

Rick sat back down, swirling a bit of the mist with his finger. It was just starting to hit him: no more of his family. No more Carl, or Judith, or---

“Whoa. Whoa-whoa whoa. I’m afraid you’re going to have to stop this. This story is _clearly_ marked as _**humor**_ and _**cracky**_... No. Angst.”

Rick just blinked, staring at her until the words made sense.

Lost rolled her eyes. “Look. You’re responsible for all of this. Well sort of. I mean, I admit to some of the nerdier parts, but there’s a reason this story is marked as explicit, buster, and I can _assure_ you that it’s not because of me!” She paused. “Well, okay, it is because of me, but not naked-me. It’s because of writer-me. Okay, actually it’s because of Tweedo’s parents giving birth to her, and some stuff about fair use of copyrighted material, and freedom of speech, and my absolute joy of seeing two guys going at it and whoa, I think I might need to switch to decaf.” She coughed. “But. The sexy stuff has nothing to do with me. I just write it.  You being here is because of _your_ wish, not mine.” She itched an eyebrow. “Technically.”

Rick cocked his head.  “What?”

Lost threw her hands up in the air. “You.” She pointed to Rick. “Made a wish.” She moved both of her hands, the fingers scrunching up together so that all the fingers touched her thumb, then poofed out in a mimed explosion.  “Before you fell off that roof.” She flattened her left hand and walked the first two fingers of her right off the edge of it, making a little splat sound when “Rick” hit the ground. “You wished for Daryl.” She made a _very_ rude gesture with one finger plunging repeatedly into the circle of the forefinger and thumb on her other hand and Rick found himself turning bright red. “And here we are. I’m gonna make your wishes come true.” She grinned, then frowned.  “Er. Okay that sounded a lot less creepy in my head.”

“You. I. Dar-. _What_?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lost muttered, hunching over the keyboard again.  

Rick barely had time to brace himself before there was a _pop_ and a shudder of air, and Daryl stood there, still dressed for constructing the solar panels onto the community building’s roof.

“ _Rick_!” The shout had Rick jumping up to his feet.  Daryl barrelled towards him, not even noticing the swirling purple mist or the avidly-interested frumpy brunette hunched over her computer. He clearly only had eyes for his friend, and Rick felt his heart give another funny sort of wiggle when Daryl enveloped him in a huge, strong hug.

Daryl wasn’t really a hugging sort of guy. He might do a manly slap on the back, or the occasional brofist, but hugs were practically anathema.  

“Rick, man. I thought... I thought...”  Daryl’s face pressed into the crook of Rick’s neck. It was surprisingly intimate. Rick could smell the clean scent of his sweat, his skin still sun-warmed from their work on the roof. Rick only noticed that Daryl was checking what he obviously expected to be a broken neck when he felt the callouses scrape against the skin of his neck.

Rick grabbed Daryl’s wayward hands and pulled slightly away. “I’m okay. I’m fine. I swear, man. I’m _fine_.”

It took Daryl a second, but he got ahold of himself, stepping back and fiddling with a frayed hole in his shirt. In his embarrassment, he finally noticed their surroundings, and reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, reaching for a crossbow that obviously wasn’t there.  He stared at Lost, blue eyes wide and confused.

“Hai!” She waggled her fingers.  

Looking possibly even _more_ confused, Daryl waggled his fingers back. “Hi?”

Lost’s grin turned slightly evil. At least, Rick felt it was slightly evil. Who knows. To Daryl, she might just have looked constipated.  

“So! I guess it’s time to get to the sex!”

Daryl’s mouth fell open.  Rick wheezed so hard that he wasn’t entirely certain that his lungs didn’t collapse.

“See okay to save time and like, three more pages of exposition, let me give you the short-short version. You two are here because before Rick fell off that roof to his death, he made a wish. He wished for you.  As in, Help-I-Don’t-Want-To-Die-There’s-No-Living-Without-Daryl-Dixon thoughts. But! Funnily enough, when Rick made _his_ wish, Daryl made his _own_ wish. Ain’t that a kick in the pants? If wishes were fishes, huh? Well, I’m not a genie or anything and what you both got instead was me, and my hastily-contrived plot devices. Basically, you two are stuck here, like this, with me, until you bone each other.”  She grinned beatifically.  “I’ve... I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

Daryl thought about her words for a second, shrugged, then started taking off his shirt.

Lost and Rick both gaped at him, shocked.

“What?” Daryl looked from Rick to Lost, and back to Rick.

“No!” I mean, hell _yeah_ , but you can’t just _strip_! The tags _clearly_ specify that this is supposed to be Porn with Feeeeeeeeeelings.” She pointed to the mist, and Rick and Daryl turned to see what looked like a webpage appear in triplicate over her shoulder. It was white with a maroonish header, and very clearly marked in the tags section were the words ‘Porn with Feeeeeeeeeelings’. Lost had even helpfully circled them three times in red pen. There also seemed to be a fluorescent blinking, yellow arrow pointing to the tag.

“So?” Daryl unhooked his belt.

“ **SO**! **_So_**? _S_ **_o_ ** _o_ **_o_** _,_ there has to be _feelings_ before there is _porn_! You can’t just... just drop trou like it’s nothing!”

“Wouldn’t that be Feeeeeeeeeelings with Porn?” Rick’s mild voice caused Lost’s eyes to narrow. She opened her mouth. Closed it. She frowned harder, then turned on her heel and stomped back to her desk.  Lost slurped her coffee, then slammed it down onto her desk, muttering darkly under her breath.  Rick and Daryl both side eyed each other when she cracked her knuckles and wiggled her fingers, as though she was stretching them for an influx of work. The click-clack of keys started again and....

 

....

....

 

 

 

(TBC!) 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with Stuff! And Thangs!

 

(A/N: Things get a lot more explicit here!)

* * *

 

...and...

Rick found himself blindfolded on the bed. He could tell from the brush of fabric on his skin that he was naked except for his jeans.  A strong grip held his hands down onto the mattress and Rick tested the strength of the hold on reflex.  It was solid. With his eyes out of commission, his other senses seemed stronger.  He could feel the bed near his head dip with the weight of whoever was holding down his arms, and Rick bit his lip.

There was something..... Something he knew he should be remembering, but he couldn’t shake the thought loose.  He felt lips brush quietly against his clavicle and wanted to melt into the simple touch. Rick felt the bed dip near his left foot and he froze, shocked.

Wait.

If there was a body up by his head, and a body down by his feet one plus one plus one equalled _what the actual fuck was going on here?!_  

The blindfold was quickly removed, and Rick blinked up at the weird purple mist that floated around the ceiling.

_Whoaaa. Trippy._

“It’s all good, Rick. Jus’ me.”

Rick looked down near his feet and saw a naked Daryl Dixon kneeling at the foot of the bed.  He started to relax, then tensed when the hands around his wrists tightened. Rick arched his back and looked up, only to have his mouth drop open in shock. He looked into the steady gaze of... 

Daryl Dixon.

Rick made a sound that he hoped adequately conveyed  **_!!????!!?!_ ** and watched as the Daryl by his head’s thin mouth pouted a little.  He may or may not have _not_ looked so hard that the momentum of his body twisted him right off the fluffy bed and onto the floor with a dull _thud._

Two sets of very naked... feet... rushed over to Rick’s line of sight and helped him up. That is, the equally naked arms and hands attached to the naked body also attached to the naked feet helped Rick up.

That was. That was a lotta naked. Touching the two Daryls was... it was...Rick sighed, more than aware that he had lost the plot somewhere.

“Okay guys. Er. Assemble.”

Rick jerked his shocked gaze over to the woman--- oh. Ohhh, Yeah, broken neck, forced Macarenaing, Daryl... _right._

Both Daryls moved to the foot of the bed. Rick flexed his wrists and scrambled up so that his back was against the headboard. There was a ... lot... of naked Daryl in front of him.  In a mad attempt to preserve someone’s modesty (Rick honestly wasn’t sure if he was trying to do a solid for the Daryls or himself) he jerked his gaze to the back of the cavernous room, where Lost waved again, grin bright.  

Rick sighed deeply.  “Okay-- what the _hell_ , Lost?”

“Oh no! _You two_ wanted to be sassy. _You two_ couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. _You two_ didn’t want to admit to the feelings before the bow chikka wow wow, so now you’ve got your hands full, eh?” She waggled her eyebrows.  “See I meant it when I said that I get to control everything here. Sort of. You two keep managing to fuck up all my other attempts to get you together*, but that’s neither here nor there. What you _do_ need to worry about, Mr. Grimes, is that you have two entirely naked and interested Daryl Dixons here.” She stood up and almost skipped forward, walking around the two Daryls, indicating them- or possibly just their asses-  with a Vanna White ‘tah-dah’ motion. “I mean, _look_ at them.”

Both Daryls nodded and smirked with identical smirks. Rick swallowed hard, still trying to avoid the blazing... nakedness... in front of him. He focused on Lost’s hazel eyes with a sort of desperate intensity.

“So, with all good heroic tales, there has to be a quest, right? A puzzle? Some kind of ... oh, I don’t know... conflict?”

The Daryls nodded. Rick found himself nodding too.  

“So! You have a couple of choices here. I’ll leave all y’all to work out the details. The thing you need to know, is that if you pick the wrong Daryl then you guys get to spend the rest of your eternity down here with me.  And yes, I’m actually this annoying all the time, so that should be some serious motivation right there. If you pick the “real” Daryl Dixon, then I send you back, with no one meeting their untimely deaths.”

“That's..." Bullshit.  "That’s..." _Genius_.  "How the hell am I supposed to tell?”

Lost sighed. “Well, that’s where the quest comes in. See, they can’t tell you. Neither of them can. He’s not allowed to indicate, or hint, or communicate who he is in any way. Who knows? Maybe I don’t even know which is which.”  

Rick doubted _that_ very much.

“And look- you guys don’t have to have sex. I mean, if you want to, I wouldn’t say no, but it’s all your choice. If you can resist both of them and their.. Er... _assets_ , then you’re a better man than me, buddy.” Lost huffed out a breath. “Look. I’ll even go away. When you figure it out, knock on the door and we can go from there.”

In a flash of purple, the room turned into a swanky bedroom. It appeared to be a high-rise, with the view of downtown Atlanta.  None of the buildings were damaged, and there was no sign of anything approaching the reality Rick knew to be true. Lost must really be taking that No. Angst. thing seriously. The bed was huge- a king sized that had a mess of frufru-looking pillows near the headboard. The room’s floors were done in a tasteful color scheme of browns and grays, and all in all it looked like something out of one of the magazine spreads from back in the day.  One of the Daryls meandered off to check out the bathroom. Rick followed him, and whistled under his breath.  There was a tub that looked more like a swimming pool, and one of those standing showers that looked big enough to fit all three of them.  For a hastily contrived plot device, it was pretty damn sweet.

_And boy, was it a little warm in here or what?_

Rick cleared his throat and went back to the main bedroom.  The other Daryl was looking through what looked like a fruit basket... only instead of fruit there was a selection of brightly colored toys and different kinds of lube. Rick rolled his eyes when he caught sight of the tag on the basket:

_Just in case.... have fun! Be safe!  XOXOXOX- Lost_

Rick could clearly see a drawing of what looked like a dick with a smiley face on it written on the tag. He shook his head.

“Okay, so, you’re sure you can’t just tell me who is who so we can get this over with?”

The other Daryl padded up behind Rick and brushed the back of his neck lightly with his fingers.

“Naw. Lost was pretty clear. Besides, cheatin’ ain’t no... fun.”

Rick found himself leaning into Daryl’s... the first Daryl’s.... touch without thinking too much about it.

“This is gonna get confusing.”  Rick looked over to the gauzy curtains, then moved away from Daryl, walking by the other Daryl to open the curtains to the early morning light, then tore off a strip of the white cloth. He turned to the second Daryl and tied the cloth around one of his biceps. “I’m gonna call _you_ Dixon.” He turned back around to the other Daryl, gesturing that he should stand besides his clone. Or, twin. _Ew, no. Definitely_ clone. The idea of them being brothers broke Rick’s brain a little. “And I’ll call _you_ , Daryl.”

They nodded at the same time. Which just wasn’t fair.  Rick sighed again, feeling put-upon. He was gonna have to stare them down. He had to look and see if they really were the same. As they were still naked, Rick found himself looking at....

 _Woo-oow_.

Both Daryls had the same tattoos, the same freckles, moles, and tan lines. They had the same colored hair, the same colored eyes, and the same little gap in their teeth when they smiled. They both had the same scars, and the muscles in the same places. And under Rick’s careful scrutiny, both Daryls’ cocks grew... and grew... and okay.  Rick licked his lips, not even caring how hungry he had to have looked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like this before.” Rick’s voice was lower than he meant it to be.

“I have.” Dixon smirked, reaching down and grabbing his own dick, completely unashamed.

“I haven’t either, Rick.” Daryl almost looked bashful.

Rick cocked his head. The Daryl he knew hadn’t really seemed like a virgin, but he hadn’t seemed like someone who was completely at home having a threesome, either, so that didn’t give anything away.

“Rick, do you _want_ to have sex with us? Or one of us? Either is okay, you know. That crazy chick was probably just trying to get her rocks off or something, having all of us---”

“Ah, well I’m not exactly opposed. I bet you can convince me.” Rick wasn’t sure what made him say _those_ words, but it caused both Daryl and Dixon to shiver, slightly.  His wrists, where one of them had held him to the bed, tingled with the phantom pressure of being held down, and Rick smiled a little.

“Oh hell yeah.” Dixon pushed forward, wasting no time in bringing their lips together. Dixon kissed like a battering ram, all teeth and tongue and unbridled passion.  Rick had always thought himself a good kisser, but Dixon made his knees week.  He pulled away to gasp in oxygen, and noticed that Daryl was in the process of tentatively bending down to kiss Rick’s neck. He would suck a little mark, lick it as though tasting Rick’s sweat, then move his way up the cord of Rick’s neck. With Dixon kissing him, and Daryl kissing his neck, Rick felt his cock thicken and fill out, pressing uncomfortably against the unforgiving material of his jeans.

Rick pulled away to breathe again, and caught the absolutely devilish glint in Daryl’s gaze before he grasped Dixon’s hair and pulled _him_ into a kiss.  Whatever blood Rick had in his brain fled to his dick so fast he felt dizzy.  Feeling greatly daring, and muttering to himself about ‘when in Rome’... Rick reached down with both hands, wrapping one around Daryl’s cock and the other around Dixon’s. They both moaned. Dixon’s hands came up to Daryl’s shoulders, and Daryl flung out one hand to grasp Rick’s forearm, as though he needed the confirmation that he was there.

Dixon’s fingers tangled with Rick’s as they moved over his cock, and Rick watched the two of them kiss, the play of tongue and teeth and lips. Rick could feel their cocks get harder and more slick with precome as he jerked them off.

“Maybe we should move this to the bed.”

Dixon looked up, his lips swollen wet  and red. His fingers slid from where they were entangled and gripping his cock, up his stomach, Rick’s flank, then tightened on Rick’s forearm, pushing it against Rick’s chest. Rick backed up a step, then another, until the back of his legs brushed against the mattress.  Rick fell back onto the fluffy surface, not so much pulling Daryl and Dixon by their dicks, but guiding them where he wanted them.

Let it not be said that Rick Grimes was not a man ashamed to go after what he wanted.  Things just weren’t usually this...er.

Hands on.

Daryl swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed. He had began thrusting into Rick’s closed fist, the slick from his own body easing the friction and tightness of Rick’s grip. The flush from his cheeks had spread down all the way to his chest.  Rick couldn’t wait to see how far down it went.

Dixon bit at Daryl’s lip and twisted so his cock was out of Rick’s grip. “I’ve been waiting to do this.”

“Yeah?” Rick watched as Daryl also pulled away from Rick’s double-fisted grip, dabbing at the tiny sore spot on his swollen lip.

“Look at him.” Daryl’s voice was low, tense with want. It was hard for Rick not to think of _his_ Daryl, and for a moment he looked back and forth between the two men, trying to gage who was who.  

Under both of their gazes though, Rick couldn’t help but preen a little. It was empowering- really, to have all that intensity focused on him.  He wiggled a little, pleased that Lost had thought to strip him of his boots.  There just wasn’t a sexy way to get the damn things off once sex started- he’d tried once with Lori and had fallen off the bed so spectacularly he’d given himself a concussion.

“What are you thinking about?” Daryl sat down on one side of the bed, stretching his arm over Rick’s legs to brace himself.

“Huh?”

“You had a funny sort of smile on your face.”

Mineful of Lost’s warning from before, Rick just shrugged. “Nothing much. So... have you done... any of this before?”  Rick gestured kind of half-heartedly, but Daryl seemed to know what Rick meant.  

“Nope. Not a thing. I mean, nothing with anyone else. I’ve used my own fingers, and I used a plug that Merle had bought--- no no _no_ , it was still in the packaging. He bought it as sort of a gag gift,” Daryl blurted when Rick (and Dixon) cringed at the idea of Merle and sex.

Rick thought that he’d still need to bleach his brain.  Lost must have agreed because briefly, over Daryl’s head appeared a column written in purple mist. In the column, Lost had written UNSEXY POINTS. She’d given Daryl -10.

Rick’s lips twitched.

Seeming to intuit that Rick’s attention wasn’t fully on him, Dixon leaned over and kissed Rick’s shoulder, lipping at the scar tissue that still remained from when he’d been shot.  Dixon tugged, and all of them moved so that Dixon had his back against the headboard, Rick was half-sitting, half-lying between Dixon’s spread legs, and Daryl was stomach down on the bed, with his head pillowed on Rick’s thigh. As a distraction, it worked wonders.

“But. If you’re asking what I want to do... I want you inside of me. Um. If that’s something you’d enjoy.” Daryl pulled Rick’s hand to his mouth and started licking and sucking on his two fingers. Daryl managed to blush again, and Rick tried not to be utterly entranced by it.

He failed.

“And while you fuck him, I’m gonna be sliding this thick cock of mine inside’a  you.” Dixon almost growled the words, turning Rick’s head to kiss him again.

There was a weird sounding, squeaky **_eeeerrrrrrrtttttttttt_** **t** from the windows on the _outside_ of the bedroom, and the three of them looked over, shocked out of their moment.

Lost stood there, face pressed against the glass, giving them two thumbs up. She nodded vigorously, grinning like a crazy person.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t watch!”

Lost looked faintly sheepish as she grumbled under her breath, the words puffing against the glass. She flung out her arm and slowly lowered the window washing apparatus, disappearing from sight.  Rick snorted at the extended middle finger she flung up, right before she would have exited their line of sight completely.

Rick sighed. At least if he was losing his mind, he had a sense of humor about it. It _almost_ made up for the blue balls.

...

...

  
TBC!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... LOOK MA. NO HANDS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (aaaaand we’re very much explicit here. I’m not going to warn for all the sexy stuff here but I will list them in the end notes. If you’re concerned about a specific thing, please don’t hesitate to  drop me an ask.)

There were a few beats of silence. Rick felt the warmth of Dixon at his back, and Daryl at his front. It was comforting enough that he almost regretted wanting to say something, but he _also_ figured that it wasn’t like he was going to have a chance to do this ever again. At least not with two Daryl Dixons.  And... he really didn’t think he’d be up for inviting anyone else into his bed.  But this?  Jesus fucking Christ he had so many _ideas_ and plans for them. It was all Rick could do not to clap his hands together in glee.

He shivered taking back his fingers from Daryl’s still-swollen mouth, and Dixon’s hands gripped his biceps. Dixon hooked his chin over Rick’s shoulder and the low rumble of his voice caused Rick to shiver again. 

“Hey. Me. Why don’t you get him naked? He’s a bit overdressed for this party.”

Rick huffed a breath when Daryl sat back on his legs, unbuckling Rick’s belt and unzipping his jeans. There was a trick to unzipping when the man wearing them had a hard on, but Daryl was careful. Rick was definitely appreciative. It also didn’t hurt that Daryl bent to suck and lick at each bit of flesh that popped out. Dixon clutched his chest, and turned to kiss him again, and Rick was starting to forget who was doing what. Already! And they’d barely gotten started. Dixon’s kiss was just as strong as he was. He knew what he was doing, and Rick struggled to keep up. Daryl’s mouth on Rick’s cock was just as single-minded. He’d lifted Rick so that he could pull off Rick’s jeans, and flung them off somewhere. He’d pushed and prodded until his hands cupped Rick’s ass, pulling him into his mouth.  It was pretty clear that he had never blown someone before, but Rick wasn’t about to ask him to stop.

“Hey. Slow down. He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”  

Daryl pulled back and looked up the line of Rick’s body. Rick felt like the air had been punched out of him at the eager look on Daryl’s face. He bent again, and blew against the wet tip.

“That’s it. Use your tongue some. Not too much. Use your hand if you need to steady his dick for your mouth, and this time when you go down on him, go slowly so that you don’t choke. And make sure you watch the teeth."

Dixon telling Daryl what to do was now one of Rick’s new favorite things. If he still had a cell phone, it would be his new ring tone.

“Ahh. Ah... _Hoshi_ t- A little teeth is... okay.”

Dixon snorted, but started doing something to Rick’s neck that he approved of. Rick found himself floating just a bit, lost in the sensations of Daryl’s mouth and Dixon’s hands, rubbing over his chest and scratching lightly over his nipples.  Dixon would shift his hips, rubbing his own cock against the small of Rick’s back. Whenever Rick got close to tipping over that edge, Dixon stopped Daryl with a tug on his hair and pulled him off of Rick’s cock until Rick caught his breath and stopped babbling in tongues.

It could have taken ten minutes or an hour.

Rick didn’t know but he was surprised that his dick hadn’t flipped all of them off and walked off in a huff. (Hey he was having sex with two Daryl Dixons. It could happen. Rick wasn’t ready to discount anything.)

“Can... Can I...?”  It just about killed him, but Rick pushed Daryl away from between his thighs. It was a lot more difficult than he had anticipated given the fact that he had temporarily forgotten how to use his hands and arms.

Rick heaved a breath, then launched himself forward, kissing Daryl as well as he could. It was a tangle of arms and legs, but Rick was able to get a little of his own back when he flipped Daryl onto his stomach, pushing on the back of his thighs and tugging at Daryl’s shoulders until Daryl was on all fours before him, legs spread just enough that Rick felt his mouth go dry with anticipation.  

“What... _oh!_ ” Daryl’s voice cracked and wavered, and his weight shifted slightly.

Rick bent forward and bit at Daryl’s buttcheek, tugging a little playfully on the skin. Daryl moaned, and Rick felt Dixon, push at his arms and legs, tugging him into the same position, mirroring what Rick had done to Daryl.

“Hey! Lost! You pervy bitch, can we get some mirrors here?”

There was a flash of purple and a * ** _pooof!_** _*_ and the resulting deluge of reflected light was so bright, Rick could only blink for a second, seeing flashy black dots in his his vision. He squinted and looked away from Daryl’s ass, blinking a little hesitantly.  There had to be twenty different mirrors there, all helpfully arranged so all of them could see what all of the others were doing.  Rick cautiously opened both eyes, and the resulting flood of light didn’t strike him immediately blind, which he found extremely helpful. 

“Thanks, Lost!”

She didn’t answer, but over Daryl’s head appeared the Archive of our Own page. She'd added ‘mild exhibition kink’ right after ‘Porn with Feeeeeeeeeelings’ and what appeared to be a cartoonish thumbs up thing.

                                                                               

 

Well, Lost was holding to her bargain. She was probably watching (well, she’d have to be if she was writing it, right?) but at least she was staying out of their business.

 _Ish_.

Rick felt a slap on his ass, and looked up into the mirror to see Dixon’s rakish smirk as he bent deliberately to his task. He felt Dixon’s hands running over the small of his back and over the curve of his ass, and after a suggestive pinch that... literally... got Rick’s ass moving, Rick bent to do the same to Daryl.

As feedback loops went, it was amazingly effective. Rick made a special point of not touching Daryl’s cock, because he knew that if Dixon touched his this whole story would need another chapter and a tag for ‘author cockblocking’. He had plenty to occupy him, anyway.

Fortunately there was plenty of lube.  Rick didn’t want to hurt Daryl, and he sure as hell didn’t want Dixon’s thick cock to hurt _him_ , so he took his time with the prep, making sure that Daryl was comfortable with one finger, then watching in the mirror as Dixon did the same to him. It was so strange to feel what Daryl was feeling a split second after Daryl shivered or moaned or cried out- Rick did the same after Dixon’s fingers worked him open.  

When Daryl rocked back on Rick’s fingers, Rick rocked back on Dixon’s, until he realized that Daryl was more than ready. Christ knew that Rick was.

“Okay.. I want. I _want_ this.” Rick wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but the muttered ‘As you wish’ from Dixon was clear enough, even though he had moved back to his previous spot with his back against the headboard of the oversized bed.  The frufru pillows had scattered, but Dixon snagged a few and put  them within easy reach for later.

Rick sucked in another deep breath, and moved closer to Dixon, grunting a little when Dixon cupped the back of his neck in his hand to pull them together. He tangled their mouths together again, kissing him like he had been waiting for it for _hours_.

Dixon sighed when Rick bit at his lip, and his grip tightened on the back of Rick’s neck. “You ready for this?” Dixon’s low growl made Rick shiver a little. Dixon didn’t grab his cock on _this_ but he might as well have.  

“Yeah.” Rick rested his head against Dixon’s, sharing his air.

“Alright then. Turn around.”

Rick did and Daryl’s smile was a little nervous. Rick raised his eyebrows, and Daryl blushed ( _blushed!!)_ at the attention. “Would... uhm.”

Rick waited, ignoring the way Dixon kept walking his fingers down Rick’s back, over his hipbones, and teasing at his pubic hair, for Daryl to speak.

“Would it be okay if you two... went .. uh. First? Not that I wouldn’t mind going first,  but.” He shrugged, moving his fingers in a way that suggested ‘ _I’m not sure if I bend that way and also physics’._

Rick licked his lips, not even realizing what he was doing until Daryl’s gaze snapped down to Rick’s mouth like an arrow to its target.

“Yeah.”

“ _Fuck_ , yeah.”

Rick and Dixon spoke at the same time. Rick hid his smile and settled himself so that he was on his knees, but with his legs spread enough to give him balance over Dixon’s legs. He leaned forward slightly and Dixon spread him apart, the heat of his cock a sharp contrast to the slick lube around the rim of his hole. Rick adjusted, and Dixon held the base of his dick, easing Rick into place with his other hand on Rick’s hip.

The initial pressure was a shock to Rick’s system, sending shivers down his spine. Dixon was patient, and Rick moved slowly, easing down until he was fully seated.  Dixon’s fingers flexed once on Rick’s hips, and he made a little punched out sound before bending forward to lick at Rick’s neck, but those were the only outward signs of what Dixon was feeling.  

Rick huffed out a slow, shaky breath. A glance in the mirrors confirmed that Dixon was just as affected as he was by their connection. It was intense, it was beyond intimate, and Rick wouldn’t have given it up for anything.  When he was ready, he began rocking very slightly, testing the movement and how it felt. He watched as Dixon’s jaw dropped open, and smirked slightly when he saw Dixon hide his face from the reflections by resting his forehead against the back of Rick’s shoulder. Rick moved again, and again, gaining a little more confidence when he realized that the initial pressure started feeling much more pleasurable, if no less overwhelming.

Dixon started moving with him, and _that_ made Rick cry out. Dixon began thrusting slowly up, and Rick screwed himself down in a filthy rhythm that was quickly spiraling out of control.

It took Daryl leaning forward and tentatively coating Rick’s cock with more lube for Rick to shift out of the moment.  Dixon froze in place, wrapping his arms around Rick’s chest and gasping out a curse.

Rick knew what being poised on the edge of orgasm felt like, and empathized with the litany of ‘fuck shit _fucks_!’ Dixon muttered against Rick’s back.

“Sorry to stop you. Maybe I should have...” 

“ _No._ ” Rick shook his head. “No, I just... it felt...” He tried to remember how words worked. “Well, I suspect you’ll soon understand.”

Daryl twisted his hand, and it was Rick’s turn to swear.  “I reckon you’re right.”

He moved forward, and they had to arrange themselves a little so that there was room for everyone’s legs. Daryl used his hand to guide Rick where he wanted him, and Rick’s poor brain shorted out with sensation.

He registered _heat_ , and _slow_ , and the _absolute absence of movement_ while Daryl worked himself down onto Rick. There wasn’t any space left for speaking, or thinking. Rick couldn’t have shouted if the room was on fire. He registered that he and Daryl were kissing, if one would call the way they mashed their wet mouths together actually _kissing_. He registered that Daryl was impossibly tight, and that Rick _really needed to fucking move_ and Dixon was stretching him almost past endurance, and god, he felt like a rubber band pulled tight from both ends. 

Something had to give.

Rick brought up his legs to give Daryl something to lean his lower back against and that changed the angle just slightly that whatever Dixon’s cock just rubbed against caused a full-body shiver that caused all three of them to moan.

Daryl started rocking slowly, exactly how Rick had done before.  Dixon began moving from the bottom, carefully gripping Rick’s shoulder and his hip. Rick flung out one hand for balance against Dixon’s leg, and the other reached down to wrap around Daryl’s cock.

Dixon thrust, Daryl rocked, and Rick didn’t know whether to thrust or push himself back down. He eventually started to move against them, then with them, then he completely lost track of who was where and which of them was thrusting when, because between Rick’s hand on his cock and Rick’s dick in his ass,  Daryl started to come.  Rick was barely aware that Dixon had moved his left hand to Daryl’s cock, tangling his fingers with Rick’s as they both stroked him off.  Daryl froze, then shuddered, collapsing back and almost wrenching himself out of the way, still shivering with sensation.  His hand fluttered around kind of pathetically, before flopping to the mattress in obvious exhaustion.

Later, Rick would think about making a joke about Daryl’s staying power, but he vividly remembered the .00003 seconds of _his_ first time with great fondness and embarrassment.

Dixon wasted no time.

He pushed Rick forward, barely giving him time to land on his hands and knees. Dixon pulled out of Rick, then thrust back in, and Rick heard a tiny whimper and knew it came from his own throat. He felt Dixon push at his lower back, and gripped the sheets when the other man slammed back inside.

Rick pushed back as Dixon thrust forward, once, twice, then he felt himself coming untouched, Dixon a split second after him. 

There were a few beats of silence. Rick felt the warmth of Dixon at his back, and Daryl at his front. It was comforting enough that he almost regretted wanting to say something, but he _also_ figured that it wasn’t like he was going to have a chance to do this ever again.

 

From far away, Rick could have sworn he heard what _had_  to be a slow clap. He barely had the wherewithal to extend his middle finger before collapsing onto the bed, Dixon on top of him in a sweaty mess of limbs, excess lube, and come.

Daryl opened one eye and blinked sleepily at the two of them, before curling into their heat. Rick knew that he had to move, but he was still trying to remember how oxygen worked, and his heart was still thundering a mile a minute in his chest. Not to mention the fact that Dixon was still inside of him.  He wasn’t fucking going _anywhere._

Something moved in the mirror, and Rick caught sight of Lost standing by the door. She sighed gustily, scribbling something on a card in black Sharpie.

“Aw hell. Now what?” Dixon’s mutter was a low growl against Rick’s back.

Lost looked off into space for a second, then shrugged and finished writing. She held up the card and the three men stared at her nonplussed.

Written on the card, as though she were judging the Olympics or something, was the number

 

**9.2**

 

Dixon glared. “Why the fuck isn’t it a 10.0?”

Rick’s lips tightened a split second before Lost spoke. He just _knew_ what she was going to say.

Lost shrugged. “Well, I had to take points off for the dismount.”

Rick flopped back down onto the mattress. Fucking sarcastic assholes had no respect for the _afterglow._

 

* * *

 

They didn’t see Lost again until after the three of them had showered. They had come out of the ridiculous shower to see that the room had changed again to what looked like someone’s living room. Lost typed merrily away in the corner, and a fire crackled behind its grate.  

 Both Lost _and_ Dixon snorted in sync when Rick and Daryl sat gingerly on the fluffy couch cushions, both wincing at the unfamiliar pull of heavily used muscle.

“I can write you in a donut pillow.” Lost eyed them over the top of her laptop screen.

“Fuck _off_.”

“Fuck _you_.”

Rick and Daryl eyed each other, and Dixon laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch.  The other three waited politely for him to stop, and once he did, Lost stood up, walking towards them.

“Well, gentlemen. Remember, the summary of this little story billed this as a mystery. So not to speed things along or anything, but Tweedo is going to be another year older before this thing finishes so it’s best to move things right along. Daryl? Dixon? Come stand by me please.”

Rick straightened his shoulders and frowned, feeling the tension increase as the two men he’d just fucked got up to do as she asked. This time, they were dressed exactly the same. For some reason, Rick remembered that the shirt they were wearing was one that Rick had found for him. Neither man had a crossbow, but they both had the same ripped sleeves and beat-up khakis that Daryl had been wearing off and on since Rick and his family had left the prison. Still, even with the fact that they looked absolutely identical, Rick was certain of who the “real” Daryl was. He couldn’t say exactly why, and couldn’t put a name to it, but it was as obvious to him as the color of his own damn eyes.

“Remember the rules, Rick. If you chose wrong, you have to stay here with me.”

Lost’s grin turned faintly sinister.

Rick gulped. He thought he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye in the mirror, but when he turned to look, he saw that Lost had waved her hand, and the mirrors disappeared. Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed two fingers at Rick then at her own eyes  in the universal ‘eyes on me’ gesture.

“I uh... I choose...” Rick took a deep breath. “Dixon. He’s the real one.”

There was a silence.

Then a longer silence.

Then an even _longer_ silence.

Rick looked at Dixon, waiting for the purpley mist to take them back to reality. Rick could have sworn he heard a muffled sound again, but when he cocked his head to listen there was nothing.

“Uh. Isn’t something supposed to be happening?”

Lost turned, flipping her hair. Her smile grew and with each tooth revealed, Rick felt more and more nervous. Dixon and Daryl were both frozen into place, staring beseechingly at Rick. Lost snapped her fingers, and both Daryls disappeared into a puff of purple.

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? But! This is where the tropes come in! You thought that I was a nice guy, huh? Just an innocent author trying to get her favorite characters to boink like a couple of bunnies, eh? Ha! Haha!  Muh HAHAHA.”

“But!”

“No siree! No buts about it! You are trapped here.... **_FOREVER_ ** _!”_

There was a slightly-less-than muffled _scritch scritch_ and Rick whirled, staring at the glass window.  Lost stood out there, gagged and tied up, smooshing her face against the glass.

Wait.

Waaaa---aiiit.

“Wait a second. If Lost is out there... then...”

‘Lost’ stamped her foot. “Damn it! This _always_ happens!”

Lost reached onto her neck and pulled off her face mask. Instead of Lost’s normal, average, slightly red face, was the lovely [MaroonCamaro](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/pseuds/MaroonCamaro)!  

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for...” Maroon stamped her foot again, gesturing to Lost.

Rick looked from Lost to Maroon, frowning. He blinked.

Lost’s eyes were narrowed, and he saw that she had somehow gnawed through the rope on her hands. She pulled off the gag and pressed her fingers against the outside glass.  Rick could see her mouth moving, but couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Aw, damn. There’s gonna be no living with her after this.” Maroon rolled her eyes, and sighed, stepping closer to Rick. “Hey! Just wantcha to know that the Daryl sandwich was _my_ idea. You can thank me later.” She whispered in his ear, grinned, waggled her eyebrows, then turned on her heel and snapped her fingers.  

With yet _another_ flash of purpley mist that fairly screamed ‘poorly thought-out plot devices’, Maroon disappeared and Lost reappeared.

“Er. Sorry about that.”

Rick crossed his arms, feeling a little put-upon. Plus, his ass still hurt, and he figured that would make anyone cranky.

“You gonna explain what the hell just happened there?”

Lost opened her mouth. “Let me explain.”  She paused and gave her head a shake.  “No, there is too much. Let me sum up.”

Rick sighed, pinching the very top of his nose, between his eyebrows. He counted to ten. Then again in French. Then once more in Spanish.

“Well, I guess the long and short of it is that the readers were promised Feeeeeeeeeelings.” Lost shrugged. “You were slightly hesitant to uh... talk. Although the pornalogue wasn’t half bad, if I can be forgiven a boast.” Lost turned and started walking towards the door, scooping up her laptop on the way.

Rick nodded, frowning in thought. “Descriptions weren’t that bad though. Thought it would be more difficult, really.” He fell into step beside her.

“Nah. Descriptions are the easy part. Fuckin’ _pronouns_ though- _those_ are a bitch.”

Rick nodded.  The strange thing was- this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened to him today.  “So... now what?”

“Now what? Well, usually, you get your happy ending, I move on to another story, and we all keep on keepin’ on. [I’ve got this longfic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5569288?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true) that--”

“Usually?”

“Well.” Lost sighed, looking down at her computer. “I guess that depends on you.”

“On _me_ ?” Rick wasn’t sure that he liked the sound of that. “Why _me_?”

“Well, duh. You’re the protagonist. I’m just a flunky.”

“What about Maroon?”

“Maroon? Oh you know how it is. You gotta watch out for the quiet ones.” Lost shrugged. “You can’t really blame her. The tags clearly say Porn with Feeeeeeeeeelings. But ohhh no. You two had to get all _independent._ ”

Rick scratched an eyebrow.

“Look. Let me make it simple. I’m going to send you back, like I promised. You’ll never remember that all this craziness happened. It will be like a memory that fades like the dying echo of the burning sun in Night’s starlit sky.

Rick cocked his head. “Nice.”

“Yeah thanks. I was gonna say ‘... like dropping a pair of panties at prom’ but thought this thing could use a little class."

 “Class. For threesome porn. Riiight.” Rick figured he could be excused a miniscule amount of sarcasm after the night he’d had. “Hey! Wait a minute. That mean’s that I won’t remember Dixon!”

Lost shrugged. “Let me ask you something, Rick. When Maroon had you choose, how did you know you had the right Daryl?”

Rick didn’t even have to think about it. “Because I’ll always know him. Always choose him. No matter what.”

Lost’s answering smile was goofy as hell. She squeaked and put one hand over her heart. Rick blushed a little but he meant every word he said.

Lost raised her other hand and waved bye, before snapping her fingers together once and--

 

 

* * *

  
  


\---- and Rick was windmilling his arms like a complete dumbass, trying to regain his balance. His foot slipped even further as the solar panel started to slide down the shingles on the roof. He felt it; felt the sickening lurch that made his blood cold and-

“ _Rick_!” Daryl’s scream was only seconds faster than the hand that lunged forward with lightning-fast reflexes, yanking so hard on the front of Rick’s shirt that the buttons pinged every which way as they spun off into five different directions at once.

Daryl managed to pull Rick forward, using his own body weight to keep both of their balances. Daryl’s glare could have blistered the paint off of walls. It took him two tries to let go of Rick’s shirt, like he almost couldn’t quite bring himself to break his grip on Rick.

“Get. The. _Fuck_. Off. This. Roof.”

Rick was three rungs down on the ladder before he remembered that Daryl probably shouldn’t be that pissed off over what was a simple accident. It wasn’t like anything _happened._

Rick hopped down and took a few steps back to give Daryl room to climb off the ladder.  He was nervous for some strange reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the adrenaline from almost falling off the roof. Maybe it was indigestion. Carol’s weird beet cookie-things had quite a kick to them.

“Hey man. Thanks for---”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed. Rick didn’t think he had ever seen that look on his friend’s face before. He certainly had never seen Daryl willingly get up in someone’s face like that, unless that someone was about to get his ass handed to him via Daryl’s fists.

Rick started to bring his hands up placatingly, but to his utter astonishment, Daryl seemed even _more_ furious by his reaction.

“You absolute fucking _idiot_. You. You...”

Daryl stepped forward and Rick only realized that he couldn’t back up anymore when his back came up flush against the side of the house.

“I almost lost you! You almost--” Daryl’s voice stopped mid-sentence, strangled off as too many emotions vied for dominance. “I. I love you so fucking _much_ and you were... you almost.” Daryl stopped short, his eyes widening almost comically wide once he realized what he said.

And right then, Rick knew what it felt like to have every goddamn thing he’d ever wanted want him back.  He pressed forward, bringing his hands up to cup Daryl’s cheeks. He moved slowly, giving Daryl plenty of time to move away, but what Daryl obviously wanted was to move _closer_ \- which Rick absolutely approved of, one-hundred percent.

“Me too. I mean. I love.... I...”

Well, words were overrated. Rick was better with actions anyway. He bent forward the tiniest little bit, brushing his lips against Daryl’s twice before kissing him the way he had dreamed of, had wished for; forbidden dreams that Rick never thought he’d ever be lucky enough to have come true.

Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five... well, _six_... kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure.

This one left them all behind.

Well, except for the ‘pure’ part. Daryl Dixon was a lot of things, but ‘pure’ wasn’t one of them. But... Rick would find out all about that...  
  
  


.... in the sequel.

  


**THE END!**

  
  
  
  


(but wait!)

  


 

* * *

 

 

Lost sighed, and read over the last few lines.  A consummate sucker for a happy ending, Lost knew that Rick and Daryl would work everything out. It was a given. She didn’t even _need_ to write a sequel because she knew everyone reading this understood. 

She smiled a little goofily at the two idiots on the computer screen, then closed her laptop, pleased that those Feeeeeeeeeelings had come into play after all.  

  
Rick and Daryl wouldn't have it any other way.  
  


**THE _REAL_ END! **

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edging, threesome, blowjobs, fingering, mild exhibition kink, anal, some very questionably feasible sexual positions and the beat goes on.... la-de-dah-de-dah.
> 
> :D
> 
> * * *
> 
> Um. Hai! Okay so... I had probably way too much fun doing this, shameless plugs, ridiculous sexcapades and cheesy pornalogue in all. Tweedo, I hope you had an amazing bday and sorry that with a 3 chapter fic I managed not to actually post on your bday! Maroon, thank you for everything <3\. Foxy K did another ninjabeta to make sure the physics worked. ish, and always always always to Jen. Love you bb!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rick Grimes vs. The Fourth Wall - Edit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043201) by [PixieReedus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieReedus/pseuds/PixieReedus), [Rickyl_edits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rickyl_edits/pseuds/Rickyl_edits), [YeyaGrimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YeyaGrimes/pseuds/YeyaGrimes)




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